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Mingle - Emergency Potluck

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WELCOME POTLUCK

Greetings, residents! Those more observant sorts among you may have noticed a large influx of very crowded ferries. In order to welcome our new residents en masse, Town Hall is holding a potluck in Town Square. Please bring a dish if you are able and make a new friend!

All of our newest arrivals need only bring themselves. We look forward to welcoming you all into our community, and may your lanterns always be lit.

This event is open to all! In light of our new influx of prospective players following the Great Sail Migration, we've decided to offer a small public event to tide everyone over until the TDM this weekend.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"2024, by the last date I checked," he does hope that Erin doesn't do the thing that modern Changelings do and act surprised that he's from recently enough to know what the bloody moon landing is.

"And earth, yes. If you know to ask, then I presume the same."

Clears his throat.

"I'll be helping for the rest of the potluck, but if you care to make proper introductions, you can find me afterwards."

Somewhere private, but that goes without saying.

"Twenty twenty four...you're in my future," Erin says with just a touch of wonder. "That's fascinating, honestly. Love to pick your brain about it once I get squared away. I won't be a stranger."

Later, much later that evening, despite and in some senses because of the warnings not to go out after dark, Erin contacts Gilbert by sending stone, short and to the point.

"Train station. The staff are at home in bed. I extend my aegis."

"Acknowledged."

And sure enough, Gilbert is there, sat on one of the benches, sleeves glittering in the breeze that rolls down the tracks from the mountains, hands clasped together. He imagines he might look like one of those gents from a noir film, if his tailoring were halfway to decent.

When she arrives, he greets her with a nod.

"Gilbert Fitzroy. You have my apologies for the brusqueness earlier."

Erin's tailoring isn't exactly any better, though she's still wearing the pocket square Annabel gave her. She offers up a brittle smile. "Nothing to be sorry for, I'm badly out of practice. But...I know I'm not sleeping tonight. New place. New people. Everything else. Might as well be helpful."

She sighs, her breath steaming faintly in the night air. Her Mantle, so energetic before, has become a sad and wet thing, fizzling against the ground.

"It's gonna be a long story no matter which one you pick."

"I've never known a short story," Gilbert's breath does not steam at all.

"Start where you start and we'll make our way from there."

"My name's Erin Peters. American, if it wasn't obvious, most recently out of New Avalon, Maryland. For the last...Christ...year and a half? Two years? I've not been on Earth. Like a lot of the new arrivals I was imprisoned in a false reality taking the form of a cruise ship, cut off from Earth, cut off from the Hedge, cut off from every kind of existence I'd ever known. They could see me there, too, but that's actually from home."

She goes to reach in her pocket and stops herself. "...I'd kill a man for a smoke," Erin mutters. "...The Mask is just gone at home, Gilbert. Gone and done. The Lost walk among the blind, and the blind see."

He respectfully makes no comment on the obviousness of her Americanness.

"The boat I've heard so much about," and by heard he does mean eavesdropped about, "and... how? Why? To what end?"

"Fuel," Erin answers simply. "Maybe company for that place's master, but mostly, fuel. It ran on passion, not Glamour but something like it enough for government work. I don't know how or why I got picked, only that somewhere back on my Earth there's an original running around that doesn't know I exist. Which is...fun. I hope her life is going better."

It is.

"As for the Mask, no one knows, or if they know they're not talking. It's been just me. There were Lost on the ship but they were Masked wholly, and this is the part of the story where you get real upset about me, 'cause I tanked attention off them by being real open."

He nods, considering. Not like the old Masters then, but close enough to make his skin crawl. He nearly comments on it, before Erin opens her mouth again, and...

Gilbert places his head in both hands.

"I would like you to time two minutes before you speak again, so that I may look back on this moment as the last before I was inflicted with a permanent headache."

Erin is whole-ass silent for two minutes, with metronome precision.

"Thank you."

Always can trust one of the musical types to have perfect timing. It's why he asked.

"Alright. I'm braced. Proceed with headache infliction, at your leisure."

"Least I can do. We didn't have a Winter...another Spring, couple Autumns for awhile, and a courtless youngblood taken just after his Homecoming. Poor bastard." Okie truly was there too. He deserved better. Erin's hands slide into her pockets, and she turns away as if to gaze out at the woods. "...Some things are more common knowledge than others. The Courts I told nearly everyone about, trying to make our culture make any kind of sense. Had to do that a lot back home too, everyone asks the pretty lady at the bar what her deal is. Pledges...a bit more scattered. Lieutenant Tayrey knows, you can pick her out by her greeting 'peace and prosperity', my little sister Ruby knows, she's the short lass with one eye. Daisy Tonner, the blond Welsh woman with the absolutely rancid vibes, she's in, I've been working on her dreams for months and months and months." Erin falters, for a moment. "...Valdis. The belle of the potluck, reserved, dark hair. Funny as hell. Same deal, dream pact. Few folks know about iron, not too many. And all of 'em know about the idea of the Mask."

At his temple, near the curls of his hair, the glazing on his porcelain crackles. Then after a moment, he raises both eyebrows, looking around for a moment as if he's waiting to be struck by lightning.

"Hm. Bad. This will make keeping us concealed... difficult."

In the same way that Kilimanjaro is a bit of a steep hill.

"Pledges, the courts, the mask, iron, oneiromancy... Is there anything you didn't tell them about? Please tell me that you didn't tell them about the Neighbours."

Edited 2024-03-11 06:36 (UTC)

"The gods of nightmare," Erin murmurs. "...They know. There was no avoiding that one, Gilbert, not...I needed help to not lose what's left of my mind in that iron box. They had to know."

It's almost a plea.

"Fantastic. The people are not Lost to every outsider and are in fact just a bit turned around. And if you had sworn them to secrecy, I imagine that'd be the first thing you'd tell me."

A long, deep, whistling breath.

"I'm not anyone of any rank, Erin. I don't know what to do to clean this up. I'm good at making phone calls and getting people where they need to be, and that's about it. But it can't... the cat can't stay out of this bag. I have-" a person to protect- "we have to corral this."

"Mm. And the trouble with asking them for help is that'd raise general suspicion as it is. But honestly you may just be able to get away with going stealth. Just don't pop the flashy Mirror tricks or you're sunk, people know those too well from me. Size-changing, turning into a forklift." She snorts a small laugh. "...The forklift incident was a good one. Freed a lot of people from durance vile."

Gilbert suddenly barks a laugh, sudden as a plate shattering. Then settles immediately back to his neutral, like it never happened.

"I'm not planning on popping any tricks in front of anyone. I'm not a children's birthday magician. Especially nothing they're going to see. But you understand that we might not be able to 'go stealth', right? The dots are there, and begging to be connected. I'd really feel better if you could at least talk to your people about not blabbing to every Tom Dick and Harry they meet."

"Consider it done. That said, there's some wrinkles. A few came packed with eyes that See." Erin turns again to face Gilbert, her expression solemn. "Daisy will know for the asking, probably already does, and Valdis too. Scent for the one, esoteric senses for the other, there's no Mask or Contract that's ever gonna shake Valdis. You'd do better to request her discretion yourself, she'll understand your need and appreciate that you approached her. Ruby...you might be able to shake Ruby off by strengthening the Mask, I'm not sure. Ylva picks up on scents very easily, but as far as I know if you can shake a wolf you can shake Ylva. She's the shy lass with the pointed ears."

She's thinking about something. Thinking hard.

"...One more, but I'm gonna have to make a request about them."

"Hm," is all he comments on 'there's no Mask or Contract that's ever gonna shake Valdis', which to those that know him better know as the acknowledgement of a challenge.

He finally lifts his head up again, gesturing with one of his hands.

"Go on, I'll hear it."

Erin is entirely too focused on how to say this carefully to realize she set this man up for the challenge of his lifetime.

"...They're a youngblood, been hard done by. One I've offered my friendship and trust to. I'm in a bit of a spot here, 'cause the thing is...I'm breaking that trust to tell you how to recognize them, and I'm doing you wrong if I don't. So I'm gonna ask, son of December, that you give them your grace and patience, maybe see what you can do to look out too. Play along if they're trying to prank you. I don't like it, but..."

What is there to do?

.........

"I'm sorry- are you actually asking me to go along with being pranked?"

"Yeah, I am!" Erin snaps; her wings flare, and she Gestures, a bit incoherently. "I'm asking you to indulge someone who's never had a place to belong and trusted me to be her friend when she's not had any in a life that's sucked more than a vacuum cleaner convention!"

"Oh! Well that changes things! I'll just gad about paranoid from every angle because I don't know where a potential humiliation is coming from, knowing that if I'm so lucky as to see it coming, I have to accept it, because it might be the anonymous person you're gesturing at the idea of!"

Beams wide.

"It's a good thing we've all had such well-adjusted lives with copious friends and places where we fit, isn't it? So we can indulge this single poor sod, extending forth the hand of generosity! Wonderful! Good show!"

"She's got an obvious tell," Erin snaps back. "Which is why I'm asking you to indulge her, alright?" She turns away again, hugging herself and shaking in the cold air. "...Pink. Any form she takes is pink. Fur, skin, scales, whatever, bright pink features."

"...Be kind to her, please."

"Is this how you make demands of everyone? Raising your voice at the slightest bit of friction? Or am I just special because we're both you-know-what?"

Which is not an answer. Not yet, anyway.

Mingle - Emergency Potluck

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